10 #3
Very well. Lust, I could forgive. He’d always been gorgeous, and this had nothing to do with yearning. Nevertheless, I refused to go there for a thousand reasons.
Aire’s blistering gaze sank to my bust, then jolted back to my features as if he’d been caught sinning. “Never mind the rest of them. Let’s focus on one. Tell me you believe that knight is worthy of your skillset. To say nothing of this Rhun character as a viable training partner.”
“You’ve known him for three solid seconds,” I contested.
“Which is less time than it would take you to extract his spleen, depending on whether he possesses one. Is that the type of subpar opponent you wish to combat on the practice field? Say the word, and I’ll retract my statement.”
Unbelievable. “Are you getting these vibes from your psyche or some highfalutin whim? Because I’m pretty sure I know the difference by now.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning one minute, you’re a humble defender of peace. Next, you’re acting like a biased prick.”
Based on the depth of our voices, we could have either been flirting or laying out the terms for a bloodthirsty siege. Both options took on a feral, provocative note. But like fuck was I about to surrender an inch.
“Divinely perceptive or not, it’s not like you to make unfair assumptions,” I snapped. “Or to downgrade my ability to choose valuable sparring partners.”
Instant dismay stole across Aire’s face. “I did not intend—”
“At least, that wasn’t the knight I knew before you left.
And for the record, Rhun’s fighting skills suit me just fine.
I save the real thing for the rest of the troops, while he and I spar for levity.
It’s a tease between us, not actual combat.
Deliberately mispronounce his name all you want, but it’ll always come out right from my mouth, whether I’m crossing swords with him or sitting on his cock. ”
Gone went Aire’s remorse. It fizzled out like a magician’s special effect. In its place, a combustible noise skidded up his throat.
I hadn’t meant for that last bit to come out during a pent-up argument on his first day home. I also hadn’t reached his boiling point so much as rammed my boot into the thing, kicked it over, and spilled the contents.
Aire hammered his opposite palm on the other side of the railing, the heat of his body soaking through my dress. My intakes hitched, a primal buzz shooting through my veins. Antagonism intensified the effect, the friction tightening in my cunt.
“Then my original allegation stands,” the knight husked. “That obscene tongue of yours should be leashed.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because you’re not a chauvinist. And despite your chaste sensibilities, you’ve heard the clan say worse on a daily basis. It seems I’ve got a greater effect, but my tongue doesn’t repel you.” I matched his stance, my bodice rustling against his jacket. “It intimidates you.”
That fully-loaded gaze bolted me to the ground. “You’re right.”
I blinked, whiplashed. “Any particular reason?”
“I do not know.”
We halted on a precipice, capable of saying things we wouldn’t be able to take back and ruining this night. But we’d done that once already. Awareness softened his pupils, repentance consuming the blue of his irises.
Aire dipped his head, studying my hand close to his on the railing. Our fingers clenched the bar, inches from brushing.
His voice gentled. “Are you happy with him?”
My anger disintegrated. Jealousy notwithstanding, Aire had asked on a hopeful note, not because he wanted me to say no, but because he wanted me to say yes. To be honestly, radiantly happy with a man of my choosing.
The question tugged on a place inside me that I couldn’t, wouldn’t trust anymore.
“He’s fun,” I answered simply. “Spring bundleberries keep things safe. Armed with the most potent contraceptives on this continent, I can enjoy myself to the fullest extent. Beyond that, I’m not looking for more from these blokes right now. ”
“Perhaps someday you will.” His sincere gaze leveled on mine. “Find more with someone.”
Maybe. Maybe not.
And that was okay.
Or it was until another noise scrolled from the pit of his chest, the sound held together by a string. “Aspen…”
My name on his lips. The only honest thing about me.
I wanted him to say it again. More than that, I wanted him to take it back.
He scoured my features, avid to see through the hood, this unfiltered desire so raw that my hand molded into a fist. Otherwise, I’d tear the thing from my head and expose myself.
I swabbed my tongue across my lips, the motion drawing his attention. Those eyes turned down to half-mast, heat and repression branding his features, his grip crushing the tilt.
One centimeter closer, and my hips would graze his own. If that happened, my pussy would spill, and I’d regret being the first to yield.
Our ages weren’t an impediment anymore. Our class distinctions didn’t matter to us either.
Yet I had solid reasons for staying away. And something prevented the penitent knight from acting as well, some unspoken duty pulling his countenance taut.
If this were a fleeting dalliance, and if he were any other man, he might slam me into the nearest surface and shred the cloak from my body.
He might hoist me off the ground and shove me hard against the facade.
He might wrench up my skirt and shear open the slot in my drawers.
He might throw caution to the wind and spread my pussy wide.
He might pound his cock, every rough thrust prying a scream from my throat, the noises bouncing off the amphitheater walls.
He might kiss me. He might fuck me.
But that train of thought was moot. This thing between us was nothing but militant attraction. And even that, I had no right to sample.
Liar. Imposter. Traitor.
The instant I squirmed, Aire thrust himself back. He moved swiftly, as if he’d been playing with the type of fire that could burn someone’s house down.
Mechanically, he bowed his head. “My lady.”
Shuffling past him, I exited one of the gates. The hood flounced around my head, concealing the rampant pulse at my throat. I retreated on jellied limbs, with the pastries in my pocket and a rush of wetness coating my slit.
I would not turn, would not look, would not change my mind.
Neither would he. Apart from the last few minutes, Aire didn’t hit the ground running.
Whichever woman laid claim to the First Knight, he would go slowly with her.
For his lady, that man would hold open a door, pull out a chair, and kneel at her feet.
He would ask about her day and how she felt about things that mattered to her.
He would pledge his undying oath, worship the earth she walked on, and make love to her with the same aching devotion.
He would guard that woman with his life.
He would empower his mate. He would treasure her.
As he should, instead of fucking a turncoat. Aire didn’t deserve that.
Especially not now, when I was about to commit another crime. Hastening from the jousting arena, I cast a private glance toward the castle.
Forgive me for what I’m about to do. But you have something in there that I need.
Thousands of locks, countless guards, and even more weapons stood in my way. But then, I had practice getting around that.